Beyond the Veil ~ Pendant of Joy – Featuring Blogger Adawiyah.

Assalamu’alaikum and hello to my fellow readers.

It has been quite a while since I last updated my blog. Although I wasn’t busy, my head was spinning with questions and more questions. I kept asking myself, “Am I strong enough to do this?” and “How will other people perceive me?”

What if I slowly move into this new era on a certain date where people might not take much notice of this sudden self-revolution? But how people view me shouldn’t matter, should it? Only He should matter to me, not others. After all, my life, ibadah and death is only sincerely for Him. I come from Him and will return to Him eventually.

What is this self-revolution about? Why does it matter so much to me?

On 13 February 2009, I made a decision that will cause an impact in my life and perhaps in others. I made a decision that raised many eyebrows. I made a decision that affected myself greatly as well.

I made the decision to wear the niqab (purdah).

I chose 13 February 2009 to be my first date to wear the niqab as the International Cultural Festival was held that night. I figured that people wouldn’t mind if I wore a niqab. Perhaps they might assume that I was just trying to appear Arabic. Or so I thought. Manay were shocked to see me and asked me what happened. All I could mutter to them at that time was, “InsyaAllah, I will be istiqamah…”

Some praised my efforts and a few criticised me and I was labelled as an extremist. Hahaha. One even told me to take off my niqab for the upcoming new students’ orientation. Of course, I will not take it off. Once I’ve put my heart and soul into something, I will never leave it if it is good for me.

Surah Al-Kahf, ayat 39: Tiada daya dan upaya melainkan dengan pertolongan Allah (There is no power but with Allah).

The first day I wore the niqab, I had difficulties eating. Whilst drinking with my niqab on, my straw got stuck in my niqab and some of the drink spilled on to my jubah. Then when my soup arrived, I tried feeding myself with the niqab on as well and nearly fed my nose. In the end, I wemt to the toilet, took of my niqab and resumed eating. After eating, I quickly put on my niqab.

Well, I guess that practice makes perfect.

Yesterday was the first time I went back home clad in a hijab (tudung), my aurat fully covered according to the Islamic syariah. After my Maghrib prayers, I received an SMS from my stepmom stating that she had arrived at my college to fetch me home. I put on my hijab, pinned it to my T-shirt, put on a long black jacket, wore a long white skirt, put on my socks and arm socks, grabbed my shoes and off I went into her car.

I didn’t wear my niqab back home because they would be shocked. First of all, they don’t approve my wearing of the hijab. I would be toasted if they ever found out that I was happily wearing the niqab in college.

In the car, my stepmom looked at me, apparently puzzled. “Why didn’t you change your clothes?”

“Well, I did,” I said softly. “I changed into these.”

My stepmom looked away. I didn’t know what she thought of me going home like this. Throughout the whole 20-minute journey, my heart was thumping loudly in my chest cavity. I was nervous and the glum weather didn’t do much to lift my spirits. I zikir-ed silently and prayed so that Allah will protect me no matter what happens next.

The car pulled to a stop in front of my house. My throat was dry and my stomach was empty. I wasn’t thirsty nor hungry. I was anxious. There was my dad at the front door with a long rattan cane in his hand. He would cane Johan and Sofia, my younger siblings, whenever they were naughty and mischievious. My dad stared at me. I avoided eye contact with him, took my bag from the car and closed the door.

I walked to the front door, my heart beating even harder and my breath getting even shallower.

“Since when do you come home like this?” my father bellowed.

I kept quiet.

“My father repeated his question. Loudly. “SINCE WHEN DO YOU COME HOME LIKE THIS?!”

“It’s not a good sight when I walk from my hostel to the car uncovered. What if the guys see me? I wear the tudung in college so I should wear it when entering the car as well,” I tried to explain as nicely as possible to my father.

“Take it off now!” My father ordered.

“I’ll take it off in my room,” I said softly.

“You think you’re so great wearing this?” My father shouted.

I kept quiet and gritted my teeth. Pools of tears slowly formed in my eyes. I blinked them away and quicky rubbed my eyes. My Muslim stepmom didn’t even bother to defend me nor her religion.

I walked to the kitchen to get myself a mug of water, trying hard to filter my father’s words.

“Don’t be an extremist!” he half-shouted.

“From now on,” I slowly gathered my courage to spill out my feelings, “I will cover myself up when I come back home and go back home and when I am out. I have to wear this. It’s compulsory.” I held my breath, waiting for my father to slap me. Alhamdulillah, the slap didn’t come.

“All the nonsense,” my father grumbled.

I blinked and quickly walked up the stairs.

“You think you look nice wearing such clothes?” My father hollered from downstairs as I climbed the stairs to my room.

In my room, I grabbed my handphone and called Ms. Rosinah, my ex-lecturer-cum-ustazah. I told her what happened and she told me that she was proud of me for defending my right. She congratulated me and told me to be strong.

“Don’t give up, Adawiyah. Allah is always with those who defend Islam and what is right for them. This is a test from Allah ya Adawiyah. Be strong,” Ms. Rosinah’s words of advice consoled me.

“I will mujahadah fi sabilillah ya Ms. Rosinah. I won’t give up. I have to face my mom and my stepdad next week,” I explained, my tears swallowing my words.

“Be strong, Adawiyah. Be kind to your parents no matter what. This is what Islam taught us. Show them your best akhlak. Respect them. Pray for them so that they will accept you as well as receive His hidayah and taufiq,” Ms. Rosinah added.

“InsyaAllah… Amiin…” I said softly. Syukran ya Ms. Rosinah. Assalamu’alaiki…”

“Wa’alaikumussalam warahmatullah.”

*Click*

My life won’t be the same after this.

Allahuakbar! Allahuakbar! Allahuakbar!